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Mic Squawked With All His Might
On a stump, Mic the Pigeon, With a mic, he’s a vision. Puffed his chest, ready to sing, Jazz and
On a stump, Mic the Pigeon, With a mic, he’s a vision. Puffed his chest, ready to sing, Jazz and
In my backyard, so bright, A thrasher hops, pure delight. With a curve upon its bill, It digs and scratches,